


Grasping at Straws

by idontevenknowugh



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Fellcest - Freeform, Jealousy, M/M, Multi, SpicyHoneyMustard, Threesome - M/M/M, honeymustard - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-10
Updated: 2017-10-26
Packaged: 2018-11-30 03:49:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,342
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11455350
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/idontevenknowugh/pseuds/idontevenknowugh
Summary: Papyrus is not happy with this littledalliance. It's time to do something about it.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [0neType](https://archiveofourown.org/users/0neType/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Alcohol, Anxiety and All the Wrong Choices](https://archiveofourown.org/works/7717771) by [0neType](https://archiveofourown.org/users/0neType/pseuds/0neType). 



> This is a super duper off cannon fanfic of 0neType’s [Alcohol, Anxiety, and All the Wrong Choices](http://archiveofourown.org/works/7717771/chapters/17588776), which I cannot recommend enough, which I started for their birthday. 
> 
> -blows extra kisses at Type because I can-

Papyrus glanced down at his cellphone. The text from Grillby lit up the screen only briefly, but the message was short. It was time. Checking over his suit, he made sure it was perfect. Of course it already was, but he brushed at one of the sleeves just to be sure. The action calmed him, and ensured that he was not going to be out done. 

He couldn’t afford to be. 

“Red, what are you-” the monster who bore a disgustingly striking resemblance to him opened the door to the small, private room, where Papyrus waited, rather than Sans, as the other monster surely expected. Intending to meet him for another  _dalliance_. Papyrus grit his teeth, the urge to just dust him bubbling up in his soul. 

While he struggled with his impulses, silence filled the room. The other skeleton was just standing there, staring back at him, shocked. His skull tilted up and down minutely as he looked Papyrus over a few times. Instincts made sure that Papyrus didn’t miss the opportunity to assert himself and start dominating the conversation by straightening his spine and puffing out his ribcage. 

“You aren’t Red…?” the other skeleton said slowly, a slight question in his voice. Papyrus glared at him. There it was again, the inane little nickname that Sans allowed this… this  _fake_  to use. 

“Obviously,” Papyrus responded, voice laced with mockery. It had the desired effect, the other skeleton hunching in embarrassment. He didn’t stay that way, though. Pointlessly clearing his throat, he straightened. Unfortunately, he was nearly Papyrus’s height. 

“I seem to have the wrong room. Sorry,” the imposter said with clearly forced casualness, turning on his heel to leave. Papyrus watched him do so with a sense of dismay. Where was the fighting? The grandstanding? His chance to drive off this loser and reclaim Sans for his own?

“A-are you truly that daft?” Papyrus asked, not as authoritatively as he would have liked, but it worked. The, once again, slouching form stopped, hand still holding the door open. He didn’t, however, turn back or say anything. 

“Surely you have some idea who I am,” Papyrus continued, frustrated. He had a plan, and it was exceedingly rude of his rival to ignore it. 

“Would be hard not to.” With a sigh, the other skeleton faced Papyrus. “But I don’t really want to deal with you, or whatever… this is.”

“Well, too bad.” Papyrus stalked forward and grabbed a fistful of the disgusting looking hoodie and dragged the bum into the room, pulling him to the floor as he did. He went down with a series of curses, which Papyrus cut off by slamming the door. 

Anxious sockets looked up at him, the monster’s stupid flat teeth parted in shock. Finally, he was taking this seriously. Papyrus held his spine straight, looking down at the other haughtily. 

“Oh stars… is this… a hit?” was whispered into the room, the never ending background noise of the music’s bass almost swallowing the words up. 

“What?” Papyrus reared back, shocked at the question. 

“Isn’t that what it’s called? This is some serious mafia shit…”

“No, this isn’t a hit!” Papyrus growled, offended. Did this imbecile really think Papyrus would be this sloppy if he intended to kill him? The temptation was there, of course, but that would raise questions. From Sans. Questions that Papyrus desperately did not want to answer. 

“Then… what is going on?” 

“That,” Papyrus straightened, tugging his jacket so that it fell perfectly across his broad frame. He hadn’t been unbalanced by this pathetic monster. That would be impossible. Making sure to look down with just the right level of contempt at the other, Papyrus scowled, “is very simple.” 

He paused for dramatic effect, though it didn’t seem to actually do much. The other skeleton was looking up at him, expression bewildered. Papyrus leaned down over him, fighting off a smirk at the way he shrank down. It would ruin his scowl. 

“Stay the fuck away from my brother.” 

The order was met with more silence. Papyrus’s glare was met with a blankly surprised skull. It wasn’t what he had wanted, but it must just have been taking a while for his words to make it through that thick skull. 

Then the other skeleton started laughing, his arms folding over the space under his ribs, and a tear forming along one socket. Papyrus jerked away from him. He stood back up to his full height and crossed his arms, trying to hide his own bewilderment. What the fuck was going on? 

“Do you think i’m joking?” He demanded. 

“Oh… oh no, hehehe,” the other skeleton gasped for breath, trying to school his face into a more serious expression and answer him. “I think you’re  _completely_ serious.” He snorted, and Papyrus felt himself color with anger. 

“Excuse me?” Papyrus roared, taking a step forward, which was supposed to be menacing. It made the other skeleton scoot back a little, but he didn’t stop smiling. 

“Oh my god, are you really,” he chuckled some more, even with an edge of fear tinting it, his sockets watching Papyrus warily. “pulling the ‘protective brother’ thing?”

Papyrus glowered at him. When he said it like that, it sounded stupid, but that wasn’t it. That wasn’t it at all. He wanted to protect Sans, of course, but there was no way he thought that this pathetic creature was some kind of threat to Sans. The very idea was ridiculous. 

“Of course not!” Papyrus informed the other, scornfully.

“Then what is this?” He asked Papyrus with a wheeze. “He’s a grown monster.”

“I am aware,” Papyrus ground out, embarrassment and rage dueling for control. “However, he is also-”

“Stretch-!” the door opened with a slam, startling them both. 

Papyrus stared at Sans. Sans stared at Papyrus. Then he stared at the skeleton on the floor. Then he stared at Papyrus again. 

“What. The. Fuck?” Sans asked sharply, making them both flinch. His eyelights were shrunken and scared, not a look Papyrus saw on his brother much… or ever really. 

In the resulting silence Sans flushed and slammed the door. Papyrus was glad to see the other monster jump again, as well. Sans stayed facing the door for a while, his shoulders shaking, and Papyrus saw his phalanges clench and unclench on the door knob several times. 

When he turned around finally, Papyrus could still see the panic in his sockets. 

“Boss, I can explain…”

Papyrus wasn’t ready to respond to that, or Sans’s anxious expression. His eyelights were drawn to where Sans’s hands now fidgeted, even though he couldn’t see it though the shifting bones. Papyrus’s own ring felt like it was burning around his finger. 

“Please do,” he demanded, putting on his business face, the only escape he knew from the emotions raging inside of him. 

Sans’s expression seemed to fall a. He stared down at Papyrus’s shoes, mouth opening and closing with several false starts.

Finally, he slipped into his own work persona, though his disarming, lazy smile was replaced with a serious line of teeth. Not that it would have worked on Papyrus anyways. He knew Sans too well. With his mask firmly in place, he started. 

“After that time,” Sans started, alluding to when he had met the other monster. Seeing him up close, Papyrus was honestly surprised that Sans’s plan, using him as a stand in for Papyrus, had worked. He didn’t have any of Papyrus’s intimidating air, cool demeanor, or impeccable style. 

“Stretch came back to see me, and we’ve been… hanging out.” 

“Well yes, I know that much,” Papyrus snapped, uncomfortably anxious that Sans might take him for some kind of fool. ‘Hanging out’ didn’t even begin to cover what they did. “You’ve been fucking him.”

Sans flushed, and didn’t deny it. There was a round of coughing from the monster on the floor. Papyrus glanced over at him. Was he really so lazy that he couldn’t even be bothered to stand now? 

“Boss-” 

“You’ve been fucking this pathetic waste of space. Couldn’t you have at least found someone more… dignified?” Papyrus lost his calm, soul aching in his rib cage at the thought that this monster was enough to distract Sans from him. 

“I did!” Sans yelled back, sporting a scowl now. Papyrus flinched. “I found him and he turned me down! So I don’t exactly see how it’s  _any_  of your business who I fuck!”

“Oh shit,” was muttered from the ground. Papyrus flushed, well aware that he had just lost this argument. Only his pride kept him talking. 

“Because it’s dangerous, and it’s no less dangerous with him.” 

“Well I think you know my stance on that pretty well.” Sans replied dismissively. 

He did, but he still didn’t agree with it. Papyrus was staunchly against anything that put Sans at risk. If this didn’t work, though, then Sans was going to be taking that risk anyways… without him. 

And it wasn’t working.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Papyrus is going to lose Sans if he doesn’t act. What wouldn’t he do to fix this?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I finally finished the continuation of 0netype‘s birthday present, based on their amazing fic [Alcohol, Anxiety and All the Wrong Choices](http://archiveofourown.org/works/7717771/chapters/17588776). T_T I’m sorry it took me soooooo long. I hope that you enjoy it, at least. <3 
> 
> Thank you sindontquit for beta reading this! And for providing just the best bit of commentary. Hahaha You have a point, a very good point. 
> 
> “I wouldn't let him leave either if I were Sans. Who's gonna let half a Papyrus sandwich just walk away“

“FINE,” Papyrus forced a mask of calm onto his face as he made up his mind. He could hardly believe he was doing this. Reaching down and grabbing the front of that hideous sweat shirt, he dragged his opponent to his feet.

“Boss, what are you doing?” Sans yelled, but Papyrus ignored him. He had decided, and he was going for it. Pulling the flailing skeleton close, he pressed their mouths together, hard. There was a loud clack and muffled yelling, vibrating his teeth.

Taking the chance given to him, he thrust his tongue into the other monster’s mouth. The yelling didn’t stop, but it got even quieter with the long, red length of magic rubbing up against the inside of the mouth. Hands came up and pressed against his ribs, and finally Papyrus relaxed his arm, allowing the kiss to break.

The other monster was staring at him, mouth still open and sockets searching his face. Papyrus smirked at him, clinging to that false sense of calm.

“THERE HAS TO BE SOMETHING MORE TO YOU THAN A HANDSOME FACE,” he taunted.

The other Papyrus still looked confused, realization dawning slowly, which only made sense. He was exceedingly slow. What surprised Papyrus was that realization morphed into conviction.

“Fine,” he breathed, and pressed forward to clack their teeth together again.

This time the kiss wasn’t nearly so one-sided. Papyrus found his mouth full of an invading tongue, and he had to fight back. That got his magic moving. He smirked into the kiss, wrapping his free arm around the other monster and pulling him close. The hands on his jacket went from pushing to gripping, and he felt an answering pull.

“Seriously! What the hell?” Sans yelled, drawing them out of the kiss to turn to him. Papyrus didn’t release his grip, however, and neither did Stretch.

Sans was staring at them, arms spread in disbelief.

“What are you two doing, fucking kissing?” Sans continued a little breathlessly, like maybe anger wasn’t the only thing at play. Papyrus hit upon an idea and slid his hand down to Stretch’s pelvis. He jerked it forward, grinding their pelvises together. Stretch gasped and then groaned lightly, a flare of bright orange visible in the edge of Papyrus’s vision. He was more focused on Sans, though. That was the deep red flush he was looking for.

“YOU’RE WELCOME TO LEAVE IF THIS IS MAKING YOU UNCOMFORTABLE,” Papyrus said, making sure that it couldn’t be mistaken for anything other than a challenge.

“Hardly,” he snapped at Papyrus, flush still going strong and hands fidgeting. “I just-”

“THEN YOU WANT TO WATCH?” Papyrus didn't need Sans getting his proverbial feet under him. He released the front of the other monster’s sweatshirt and moved it around to his back, as well. This one, however, slipped under the offensive garment and lifted it, along with the shirt underneath.

Sans’s eyelights snapped to the motion and stared greedily at the exposed bone.

“OR JOIN?” Papyrus forced his voice to stay light, making sure it didn't even hint at the anxiety and desire this last suggestion caused in him.

There was a noise of interest from beside him, and he decided it couldn't hurt to drive the point home. Finally looking away from Sans he kissed the slacker deeply, swirling his tongue around the other’s mouth.

“Oh hell,” Sans muttered, and Papyrus knew he was close. Breaking the kiss, Papyrus attacked the other monster’s cervical vertebrae instead.

Hands clenched around his humeri anxiously as his sharpened teeth opened around the delicate bones, but Papyrus didn't intend to mess this up by harming him. He kept the points well clear and only ran his tongue along them. The startled moan he received in reply was surprisingly gratifying.

Papyrus kept this up as long as he could, to tease both monsters, but he had to know what Sans thought. Pulling away, he looked over, probably too eagerly.

Sans was rolling up the sleeves of his shirt, as if it had suddenly gotten warmer in the club. Sweat dotted his skull and, Papyrus glanced down, there was a bulge in his pants that had Papyrus smirking to hide his nerves.

He had spent so long reinforcing to himself that Sans was off limits that it felt like he was betraying himself, giving in now. There were laws, but, more importantly in their line of work, there were rules. This was one of Papyrus’s rules.

But how he wanted it.

The room lacked a bed, but there was a small couch in one corner, intended to give the little dressing room at least some seating. Papyrus shuddered to think what some of the musical guests Grillby's had hosted may have done on it, but it was all they had.

He pulled the slacker, sputtering and stumbling, over to the couch and threw him down on his back. He landed with a sharp grunt and immediately pushed himself up with his elbows, giving Papyrus a bewildered look. It cleared right up as Papyrus stepped over him, folding his leg to half straddle, half stand over him.

What he hadn't been expecting was a heated look taking its place. It was still tinged with the other monster’s characteristic uncertainty, but he looked more than a little interested. For that matter, his hands only hesitated a little as they reached up and grabbed the lapels of his jacket, crushing the silk fabric.

Papyrus was ready to berate him, but he was yanked down into another kiss. His hands jumped out to catch him above the other monster. Papyrus’s torso hovered over the other’s as their tongues warred once more.

“Fuckin’ hell,” Sans muttered, dropping down into a nearby chair. Papyrus turned to look and couldn't help but appreciate the way his brother slouched, legs spread and his arousal all the more obvious. So he wanted to watch, Papyrus observed with a sense of regret. Well he had offered, and he damn well wasn’t going to be the one to back out. Let Sans’s plaything disappoint him. Papyrus had done enough of that.

With renewed conviction, Papyrus pressed his pelvis down on the other monster’s, grinding them together. The body under his arched up into the contact with a huff and a whine. Papyrus went back to kissing him, the leg still on the floor bending until his knee hit the couch and he was half laying, half arched above.

The pull on his jacket tightened, their mouths meeting with less aggression this time. As much as Papyrus had enjoyed the combative kisses, he found he liked this as well. They made out noisily, tongues rubbing and twisting together lewdly. The other monster- Stretch, he supposed- moaned into his mouth whenever the kissing got particularly intense, and to be completely honest, Papyrus let loose a few of his own.

He hadn't so much forgotten about Sans as let him fade into the background while he focused on the monster in front of him. It was enough that the sudden movement of Sans dropping to his knees next to the couch started him more than he would ever admit. As it was, he had to pretend like he didn't hear Stretch snicker breathlessly at him.

Turning, Papyrus regarded his brother, their skulls mere inches apart. Sans caught his sockets for a second. He huffed and pressed forward so that they were set to kiss. Sans hesitated, Papyrus fully aware it was his fault, even as the halting movement stung.

It wouldn't take much to complete the kiss. They were less than an inch apart now, but Papyrus’s own reservations decided to rear up and he couldn't quite manage to close the distance. It felt like a tipping off point, one he couldn't go back from. Of course not, because once he did, he could never take-

“MM!” Papyrus’s yelp of surprise was muffled by Sans’s mouth as he was tossed forward into his brother. Sans’s arms came up to steady him, settling on his shoulders. Papyrus glared down at Stretch, who was looking at the back of the couch, his pelvis returned to the cushions like nothing happened.

He was ready to snarl his annoyance at the move, but once his mouth was open Sans was filling it with his tongue. Papyrus hardly knew what was going on from that point on, his mind a haze of SANS. He was Papyrus’s forbidden fruit and as intoxicating as he’d always imagined.

So he wasn’t quite sure how he had ended up making out with Stretch instead, Sans sandwiched between their bodies. Stretch was insistently tugging on his jacket, and it was getting annoying. Sitting up, he glared and pulled the jacket off, folding it and laying it on top of the couch with a superior air. When he turned back to Sans and Stretch, he found them staring up at him, Stretch incredulous and Sans amused.

“OH, SHUT UP,” he snarled, and started unbuttoning his shirt. That did make the looks disappear, and blushes took their places. Papyrus’s own flash of temper only carried him halfway through the process before he realized he was basically stripping in front of them. His hands slowed, each button taking longer and longer.

“Is he always such a tease?” Stretch complained, skull falling back into the arm of the couch with a sigh.

“Mm-mm,” Sans shook his skull slowly, keeping his eyelights on Papyrus. “Boss doesn't usually mess around.”

“THIS IS NOTHING LIKE WORK AND YOU KNOW IT,” Papyrus insisted, using his indignation to bury his embarrassment. The shirt came off in short order, leaving him bare before their sockets. He kept his spine straight and let them admire him.

Hesitant phalanges brushed his ribs. He glanced at Sans from the bottom of his sockets. His brother had a wistful look. Papyrus was hit with some unwelcome guilt. He clenched one first and decided to face this like he faced work after all. Giving in to fear would only get you killed.

Or take Sans from him.

Papyrus closed the space between them, trapping Sans’s hand. It twitched against him. He held Sans’s skull to his with one hand, diving into Sans’s mouth with his tongue.

He lost track of his surroundings again, and Papyrus found himself the top layer of a pile of naked bones. They had moved to the floor. He remembered vaguely the struggle to fit all three of them on the small couch before Sans grouched at them to just use the fucking floor. Stretch was still on the bottom, where he belonged. Sans was still in the middle, his back to Papyrus and he seemed more than happy to be there, rocking his pelvis forward into Stretch’s, and then back against Papyrus. It was causing some very uncomfortable reactions.

Stretch was already sporting a magical construct on his pelvis. It kept brushing against Papyrus’s coccyx as Sans’s movement jostled it.

Sans’s pelvis felt warm, and after a few more passes, his magic also took shape. Papyrus was a little surprised to note that Sans had forgone a penis in favor of a soft mound of magic. It pressed against Stretch, making them both moan in a way that shot through Papyrus. He ground forward against Sans aggressively.

“Oh shit, boss,” Sans pressed back. He had settled into this strange situation with his usual ease. Sans looked like he always did when he was in his element, though his grin was a little more earnest and his eyelights weren't as sharp. Papyrus didn't exactly know how to feel about that.

“You gonna…?” Sans asked, reaching back to rub Papyrus's pelvis. Papyrus shied away from the touch.

“Yes, of course…” He willed his magic to cooperate. He'd never had this much trouble before, and this was Sans, star of many illicit dreams. How could his magic fail him when Sans was actually here in front of him? That was the problem. Part of him still had doubts that he should be doing this. It would change so much.

Things were changing with or without him, weren't they?

He looked down at Stretch and reminded himself why he was in this position at all. There was no way he was going to lose to some deadbeat that happened to look like him. Papyrus didn't lose, ever.

Papyrus bent his torso over Sans. There was a satisfying little jump from his brother, and his breath hitched. One hand pressed to the ground beside Stretch’s skull to keep Papyrus steady while the other reached between the two of them, rubbing at Stretch’s cock and Sans’s pussy indiscriminately. They moaned, and there was Papyrus’s magic, enticed into cooperating.

“Boss,” Sans groaned as it brushed against the back of his pelvis, and he felt Sans thrust against his hand, and Stretch by proxy, which made Stretch groan. Realizing he was in control, his favorite spot to be in, Papyrus panicked. They had both, and he had never, and now was absolutely not the time to fuck this up.

He ground down on Sans, making sure to keep his own reaction as low key and dignified as possible. He made one short, deep grunt as the ridges of Sans’s pelvis provided friction for his member. Sans, however, was pressed down into Stretch.

“Fuck! Fuck!” Sans cursed, and Papyrus felt his body relax under him, draping over the imposter. That was nice. That was very nice. He could get used to hearing those noises from his brother.

“Sans,” he whispered, his brother’s name breaking a little, giving away too much. Sans froze, and Papyrus had to read his reaction from Stretch’s reaction, which was nothing he ever expected.

“This is… I shouldn't…” Stretch started to wriggle, inching out from under Sans. “This is something you two should-”

“Stretch,” Sans said mildly, “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?”

“Leaving,” he grunted, freeing his torso. “You guys have some stuff to work through, and I really don't think you want me in the middle of it.”

Papyrus agreed, or he thought he did. He definitely would have agreed only ten minutes ago. Stretch was his rival. The whole point of this endeavor had been to be rid of him. Now he was voluntarily leaving. That, combined with the look he gave Sans in that moment made a begrudging respect start to form in Papyrus.

“Stop being an idiot,” Sans growled, trapping Stretch’s pelvis with his arms. Stretch tried to jerk free, making his still very present erection bob. Papyrus sat up, giving Sans more room to move.

“I'm not!” Stretch was scowling at Sans. He pointed at Papyrus. “He was trying to Goodfella me into leaving, and what, now he wants me to stay? I don't think so!” Sans turned his skull so he was looking up at Papyrus.

“That’s…” Papyrus looked down at Sans. His expression was completely blank, but his attempts to make Stretch stay spoke volumes. He wanted Stretch to stay, and Papyrus… Papyrus…

“We’ve reached this point, just stay, bum,” he sniffed, and Sans’s grin returned. He turned forward and immediately licked Stretch’s member.

“Bum! Why you- ah! W-what are you doing?” The slacker was as clueless as usual.

“Are you unaware of what a blowjob is?” Papyrus couldn't help mocking him, regathering his pride after that admission.

“Of course- Nn!” Sans was lapping at the head of his dick. “But why are you suddenly…” Stretch flushed, looking down at Sans.

“You heard the boss,” Sans shrugged, withdrawing his tongue. “You should stay awhile.”

“Coming from you two,” Stretch started panting and Papyrus realized Sans was massaging the base of the member while they talked, “that’s kind of terrifying.”

Sans laughed, the sound smoothly cutting off as he took Stretch’s cock into his mouth. Papyrus watched him work, losing his train of thought as he registered how good Sans was at it. This thing with Stretch hadn’t been going on that long, had it? The idea of Sans having even more partners, taking even more risks set fire to Papyrus’s soul. With a rumbling growl he pulled Sans’s pelvis into his lap. Sans’s bent over position exposed his magic, positioning it perfectly against Papyrus’s member. An embarrassed flush wiped away his frustrated scowl.

“Oh yeah… Boss… “ Sans moaned, releasing Stretch’s dick with a ‘pop’. Papyrus’s hips moved on their own, jerking slightly at the sinful noise. Oh fuck, Sans was really good at this, and Papyrus… wasn’t. The movement drew another moan out of Sans, but this time muffled by his attention to the slacker. So that was good. Papyrus made the motion again, sliding his cock along Sans, then again, and again, until he had a rhythm. Sans was clearly enjoying himself, hips wriggling against him.

Papyrus was just starting to feel like he had a handle on things when he looked up at his unfortunate twin. Stretch was flushed as well, from Sans, but his face was contorted into a confused expression. When he caught Papyrus’s socket he raised one brow bone, as if questioning him. Papyrus frowned, how dare he- Stretch brought his hands up, above Sans’s skull, where he couldn’t see them. One hand formed a circle with thumb and index finger while the other index finger pointed into the circle. Papyrus froze, pressed against Sans, to put as much of his energy into glaring at Stretch as he could. Stretch just smirked and moved his hands together and apart a few times.

As if Papyrus needed help from that sack of bones. He knew exactly what to do. Grabbing Sans’s pelvis to hold it steady, Papyrus separated enough to point his member at the slick opening. Sans helpfully raised his hips and disengaged from Stretch’s dick as Papyrus pressed into him.

“Oh fuck, oh fuck,,, bo- ah!” Sans gasped as he was penetrated, even though Papyrus was moving slowly, carefully, certainly not uncertainly. Sans had his skull turned again, resting against Stretch’s femur, so he could look up at Papyrus. He was painted red from pleasure, panting like he had lungs, and he looked at Papyrus with a wide open expression. He looked happy.

When was the last time Sans had looked genuinely happy?

Papyrus swooped down, hand curling behind Sans’s skull, turning that bit more towards him so that he could press their mouths together. It had to have been painful for Sans to crane his neck like that, but he didn't complain. He kissed back with enthusiasm, little hums and moans of pleasure vibrating against Papyrus's mouth.

He didn't take long to grow impatient, however. Sans didn't actually bother stopping to ask for what he wanted. He just rocked against Papyrus, slipping a little up and down his member.

Papyrus gasped, catching himself with his arms as sensation drained the strength from his bones. His spine couldn't even keep his skull up, so he rested it between Sans's scapulae. That was far, far better than even his ambitious imagination had managed.

“Please,” Sans breathed, and it was too much. Papyrus’s pelvis practically began to move on its own. He slid out of Sans easily. The loss of the warmth and pressure of Sans’s magic had him snapping his hips forward to bury himself back into it. Sans cried out, body jerking from the force of the thrust.

His face was pressed into Stretch’s cock, and he took it right back into his mouth after a few thrusts, when he had gotten ahold of the rhythm. Stretch groaned, and that's all there was for a while.

Papyrus fell into a pattern, grunting with each thrust as his bones clacked against Sans’s. Stretch kept moaning. Sans was making these sinful, wet slurping noises. The sounds of their activities filled the room, set to the pounding bass of the club’s music.

Papyrus had visited lots of fantasies. This was nothing like any of them, fucking Sans in the back of Grillby’s, on what was probably a filthy carpet, while he sucked someone else off.

It was still amazing.

“Fuck, Red!” Stretch broke out suddenly, and he he grabbed Sans’s skull. Sans withdrew slightly and then Stretch arched back, his face flushed with pleasure. Papyrus didn't stop, he couldn't, but he kept his thrusts small, not drawing out all the way.

He knew Stretch was done when Sans released his cock with a long lick. Stretch gave Sans a tired smile, the hand on his skull stroking down it almost tenderly.

Papyrus frowned and went back into motion. Sans’s skull dropped from Stretch’s touch to lay in his lap. He moaned as Papyrus thrust forward. Stretch shot Papyrus a pointed look, which Papyrus turned his nose up at.

When he felt a tight coiling of need in his soul, Papyrus leaned forward and hugged Sans’s, his hips moving faster as he jumped him. Papyrus flushed with shame, feeling silly for the move, but Sans’s didn't seem to care. He was whining desperately, only stopping to whisper.

“Boss… shit… right there… holy fuck… I can't…Papyrus…”

Instead of drawing back, Papyrus clutched a little tighter to his brother and put purpose behind his pelvis each time he thrust.

Suddenly Sans tensed in his arms and his magic tightened around Papyrus's. The gasping, half choked cries were worrying until they bled into a frantic litany of “Yes!”

“Sans…” Papyrus moaned, losing control of his mouth as he was wracked with pleasure unlike anything he had managed alone. He lost track of anything but the feel of Sans under him and around him.

When his other senses returned, his skull was right above Sans’s. Sans was looking up at him, panting from their activities. Still riding the emotional high, Papyrus closed the distance and kissed Sans, tongue diving deep into his brother’s mouth. Sans responded enthusiastically.

It ended with Papyrus breathless, and he quickly sat up, pulling out of Sans with a grunt, to try and collect himself. Sans slid his legs out to either side of Papyrus, slumping to the ground. Him laying there, radiating sex, with his skull on Stretch's lap threw what they had just done in stark relief.

“Do you regret it?” Sans asked quietly. They could feel the floor vibrate from the bass of the music. Papyrus had helped fund that very nice sound system, so that his secrets could hide behind the noise, and here was one more.

“No,” he shook his skull. He didn't, even though it put Sans at risk. He couldn't rationalize that Sans was already at risk because of the slacker. Because of what Papyrus was doing, because of the space he occupied in this fucking city, this put Sans at ten times the risk. If anyone found out, it would be…

“Will you?” Sans asked hoarsely. Stretch watched Papyrus as well, the two of them attentive to the answer. Stretch swallowed nervously.

“Hopefully, I will never have cause to.” Papyrus ran his hand down the side of Sans’s pelvis and along his femur. Sans shivered and hummed.

Papyrus would just have to make sure no one ever found out.

 


End file.
